


5 Times the Hale Pack Helped to Heal Stiles and the 1 Time the Hale-McCall Pack Helped

by anxious_24_7



Series: Hale-McCall Pack [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Really Happy Ending, Hale-McCall Pack eventually, M/M, Pack Bonding, Pack Cuddles, Pack Feels, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scott feels bad eventually, Scott is kinda a dick, Scott is oblivious, Stiles Stilinski Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, not all of it though, really bad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-04-07 06:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19079293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxious_24_7/pseuds/anxious_24_7
Summary: It’s hard to believe that nobody noticed Stiles falling apart after the whole Nogitsune shebang. He had gained stronger bruises under his eyes. His hands weren’t moving in the same way, not flailing about but shaking nearly all of the time. He didn’t go off on the random tangents about weird things that popped into his head like he had before. He had, it seemed, no life energy anymore.





	1. 1-Alone

It’s hard to believe that nobody noticed Stiles falling apart after the whole Nogitsune shebang. He had gained stronger, darker bruises under his eyes. His hands weren’t moving in the same way, not flailing about but shaking nearly all of the time. He didn’t go off on the random tangents about weird things that popped into his head like he had before. He had, it seemed, no life energy anymore. 

Well, almost nobody noticed it seemed to Stiles. Scott was still off with Kira once she came back from New Mexico, going back to ignoring his “bro” for his “hoe.” How does that saying go again? “Bros before hoes?” Yeah, that doesn’t happen like that in real life. Especially in high school. Lydia was concerned at first, actually, but after Stiles barely convinced her of his fairing mental state, she let it completely leave her consciousness. Everyone else in the McCall Pack™ didn’t notice at all. It kind of hurt. His dad, though. He still cared about Stiles as much as he could, but the whole stress of the supernatural made his dad stay at the station more to investigate past cases. He didn’t notice either, and if the pack not noticing was like a scrape on the elbow, his dad not noticing that his son was falling apart at the seams hurt like getting stabbed in the gut.

However unknown to Stiles, there were some people who did see what was going on. A lot of not noticing going on. 

Stiles didn’t see that people saw his struggle until there were people sitting across from him on the bench right next to his jeep. Oh! Another plus of the McCall Pack™ not noticing was that they left Stiles alone at lunch – Stiles did text Scott every fifth period right before lunch, asking him if he wanted to hang out during lunch. He glanced up from his phone that he kept checking to see if Scott even started to respond – he left him on read - to see who had just sat across from him and flinched a little bit at the sight of Vernon Boyd, Erica Reyes, and Isaac Lahey. They were just… sitting there and eating their lunch. 

A million reasons for why they sat there flitted through Stiles’s mind immediately, but one stood out over the rest as he eyed the three werewolves with a suspicious gaze.

“Does Derek need something?” Stiles questioned with an eyebrow raised, hoping that he was showing enough sarcasm and fake smugness to get past their weird ass werewolf senses.

Clearly, not working if the furrowed eyebrows and noses were anything to go by. Maybe they could smell the negative emotions flowing out of him. Well, he suspected the emotions were showing up as such.

“Not so fast Batman,” Erica rose a perfectly trimmed eyebrow right back at him, the smugness just as fake, but with underlying worry instead of underlying despair.

“We saw that you were alone, or well, you have been, which is kind of pitiful-,” Isaac was shoved harshly with an elbow from Cat Woman (Erica), effectively cutting off the scarf-covered teenager from continuing to degrade Stiles. 

“It’s not pitiful, it’s frustrating. Your pack is supposed to notice these things,” Erica spoke, Boyd nodding in agreement that made Stiles’s eyes widen. They noticed.

Stiles gritted his teeth lightly, realizing what Erica had meant after the shock of them seeing his despair, and replied under his breath, “I’m not a part of Scott’s pack. Skinny, defenseless, weighing 150 pounds soaking wet me is not a part of the epic, super strong McCall Pack.” Maybe he shouldn’t have said that, looking at the three werewolves’ reactions. They all looked as surprised as Stiles had been a second ago, but their faces quickly changed to aggravated.

“Stiles, you are a part of his pack, or at least, you were…,” Isaac trailed off quietly as Stiles’s negative emotions started flowing out of his scent glands even more. It scared him that Stiles could completely keep his expression from showing his true feelings, and it somewhat reminded of when he still lived with his father.

“If I was, I clearly am not in his pack anymore, if you guys are noticing, and they aren’t,” Stiles laughed dryly after he finished speaking and bit his bottom lip to keep it from quivering. It was too engrained into him from society that, as a man, he couldn’t cry around others. “But yeah, no offense, you guys are great, but you don’t have to pity hang out with me,” He said in the same depressed humorous voice, feeling as though he should make sure that the werewolves weren’t doing it out of a burden or feeling of responsibility. It’s happened before that way with others.

The three of them collectively sighed, and Erica stood up before walking over to Stiles’s side of the table, “That’s it, get up.” She grabbed the lanky teen from his armpits and pulled him to standing, raising her eyebrow at him once again, smiling softly at him in a first moment of actual kindness, “We’re ditching and taking you out to ice cream. Not out of pity, not out of responsibility, but because our pack is worried about you.” The other two werewolves nodded affirmatively and walked over to Stiles’s jeep, jumping into the back seat. Erica hauled him over to his jeep and threw Stiles in the passenger seat, him squawking in surprise while his heart stopped aching a little bit for the first time since before the Nogitsune.


	2. 2-Insomnia

The Nogitsune’s time possessing Stiles mostly ruined any chances at sleeping, not all of it because that little bit that he received sometimes was plagued by nightmares. The nightmares consisted of killing Allison repeatedly without control of his body, killing everyone in the McCall and Hale packs, or simply lucid nightmares of being possessed again.

Thankfully-ish, Stiles was only beset with insomnia with the past couple days since being assaulted with ice cream by most of the Hale pack. It felt much better than the nightmares, though. Sighing quietly and rolling over into the moonlight shining through his window with his eyes slowly parting open for what felt like the thousandth time that night, Stiles felt his bottom lip quivering again as he felt a stronger flow of anxiety and over-exhaustion wash over him like a wave. Stiles squeezed his eyelids closed to try and force the tears that were starting to form back into his tear ducts and clenched the pillow beneath his head for a figurative grip on steadiness.

When he opened his eyes after what seemed to be enough to let the emotions die down, Stiles yelped, falling out of his bed in the tangle of a comforter, at the sight of a piercing red stare and a shadowy figure outside of his window. Huffing after figuring out that it was the Hale Alpha Derek, Stiles maneuvered his way out of the blue, large duvet and stumbled over to the window, crossing his arms in a disapproving motion to show that he wasn’t exactly happy about the older guy showing up at, what, three o’clock in the morning. But, it wasn’t like he was sleeping, so, fine. Whatever.

Stiles rose an eyebrow at the alpha as he pulled the window up enough for Derek to get through. All the werewolves used to show up all the time, enough that he got rid of the screen on his window. “What’re you doing here?” Stiles whisper yelled, re-crossing his arms after closing the window again, trying his best not to stare at Derek’s Henley-covered torso with the little thumb holes he had on the article of clothing. What? Don’t judge him, it made the alpha look cuddlier…ish.

Derek rose a bushy eyebrow back at Stiles and crossed his arms in turn, seemingly ignoring the question as he stepped out of his shoes, speaking in a quiet, gruff voice, “Guess what my betas told me the other day, Stiles?” The disapproving emotions seeping lightly out of Stiles changed to frightened ones, causing Derek to sigh a little bit and reach out a hand to place as gently as possible on Stiles’s shoulder.

The fear in Stiles slowly dissipated, and he looked Derek in the eye, “What’d they tell you?” The words sounded a little exasperated and exhausted as his shoulders loosened back up and fell. “Your pack left you,” Derek responded as he rubbed his thumb in a circle on Stiles’s collar bone in a soothing way, “They also told me that you thought they were there with you out of pity. I’m here to,” Derek furrowed his eyebrows as he racked his brain for a better phrase than just help, “Help you heal.”

Stiles’s jaw fell a little bit as he stared at Derek, never having expected the crochety male to be caring. “I mean, wow, uh, thanks…” Stiles trailed off and looked to the side, blood rushing to his cheeks as he leaned into the contact on his shoulder subconsciously, “But, I don’t know how you’d do that, sourwolf; I’m pretty fucked up, now.”

“You don’t look like you’re sleeping,” Derek commented in response, slowly nudging Stiles towards his bed. He picked up the comforter and threw it on the bed before gently pushing Stiles onto the bed with it, “I can help, it’s an alpha thing.”

“Wait, seriously?” Stiles asked, in awe at the thought of sleeping at all, peacefully even, “You’re not kidding right? That’d be a cruel joke,” He laughed a little bit disbelievingly, moving around a little bit on the bed to get more comfortable. “How?” Stiles asked after Derek nodded in response to his question.

“It’s similar to how werewolves take pain, but I’d have to stay with you the whole night, if you are alright with that?” Derek asked, sitting down next to the teenager on the navy comforter.  
“Yes!” Stiles said almost too quickly and a little loudly before he smiled widely, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you need to do. Please.”

Derek nodded and made a quiet sound of confirmation before laying down, motioning for Stiles to lay down next to him on the bed. Stiles quickly abided and let his back face the alpha, blushing even more at being so close to another person in his own bed, especially right next to Derek. He hadn’t had a crush on him forever, actually manifested closer to beginning of his senior year starting. But damn, it grew quick.

All of the thoughts of his crush, however, dissipated as soon as Derek laid a large hand on his medium sized bicep. The tiredness from all these past weeks, nearly two months, of not getting enough sleep hit him all at once and it didn’t feel horrible. Stiles curled back closer to the alpha’s warmth and let his head his Derek’s free arm, yawning lowly before he nearly instantly passed out.


	3. 3-Lacrosse (AKA Alone Pt.2)

The rush of the wind beating against his exposed skin, the ache in his muscles from the non-stop exercise, the hurt of his organs and head from being somewhat malnourished and sleep deprived, and the feeling of scoring off a barrel-roll in the air made Stiles forget how he was falling apart. He loved the nighttime and practiced in it after everyone left whenever Coach forgot to check the field and the locker room for stray players. 

Thankfully, Coach “forgot” quite a lot. He probably just wanted his players to get better for the games and wouldn’t stop them from practicing more. Although, he would probably stop Stiles from practicing if he found out the reasons for such, reasons being a bit self-destructive.

Stiles let himself slow on the track after his second warm-up of the day, enjoying the way the cold contrasted with his heated skin. He grabbed his lacrosse stick and the ball before jogging over to approximately 18 yards from the goal. Stiles took a deep breath as he lowered down into a light squat and scooped up the ball into the cup of the stick. Better to start off with the simple shots and then get into the cooler, more extensive ones.

Without another thought, Stiles used a bit of footwork before throwing a harsh ball at the center of the goal. But something flashed in his vision, a dark figure ran across Stiles’s peripheral too fast to comprehend and caught the ball before it hit the net. Panic took over Stiles and not a second later, Boyd stood up from a crouched position, and Stiles’s fright washed away before being taken over by a little bit of fondness.

Over the past week or so, the three werewolves have been hanging out with Stiles at school and inducted him into their little group during lunch, lacrosse practice, and the classes that they have together. They’d all grown on Stiles, and he really appreciated them because he’d been getting better, and he thought that they probably had a lot to do with it. To be honest, he didn’t know until the ball was caught that he really didn’t want to be alone.

Stiles grinned at the three as his heartrate slowed down, and Isaac walked over as well, “What’re you guys doing here?”

“We heard you out here and thought we’d join,” Isaac said with a matching grin of his own while patting Boyd’s shoulder, both of them in exercise clothing, “We also had to figure out who’d steal the ball, and he won, obviously.”

Boyd nodded as Stiles walked over to the two werewolves, holding his stick loosely at his side and his grin having died down a little into a fond smile, “Well, do you guys want to practice with me? Or are you going to drag me to another ice cream parlor?”

“We brought our sticks and gloves,” Boyd commented, showing what the werewolves’ affirmative preferences were on the two choices. Isaac nodded along and pointed over to the bench for extra players where their stuff was before he jogged over there to grab the things.

“Awesome, well, thanks!” Stiles thanked them and moved back to his position, “Want to do some two on ones? Where, of course, I’m never the one?” Isaac and Boyd both laughed at Stiles’s reappearing humor and sarcasm before getting into position for the friendly drill.

It wasn't too hard of an extra practice to play with the werewolves, probably because they targeted each other the most. Pretty entertaining to just watch, but playing with them was a whole big rush of euphoria and adrenaline. They played a whole bunch of rounds of the drill before they walked around to the front of the school, all sweaty and joking around with each other. 

Stiles spotted the Camaro next to his jeep and his heartrate sped up slightly, his laughter slowly dying down. Not only the Camaro was there, he noticed, the man who owned it was also there, leaning in a leather jacket against it.

“Oh, that’s how you guys are getting home, cool!” Stiles felt the need to comment with a nervous laughter, hoping that it didn’t show how much he fell hard for the betas’ alpha. Clearly not, if the two looked at each other and then at Stiles knowingly.

“Bye Stiles, we’ll see you tomorrow,” Isaac farewelled while Boyd gave a simple ‘see you later,’ walking over to the sexy beast of the car and the man who Stiles had been seeing a couple times over the past week or so for sleep.

Once the betas got into the car, Derek waved at Stiles with a smile that made Stiles’s face become a tomato and his heartrate spike. Stiles waved back jerkily, smiling widely back at him.

Blushing a little bit as he entered his jeep, having waited until the Camaro left the parking lot, Stiles drove home with a big grin on his face, and for the first time since before all these traumatic events, he slept without any nurturing or alpha-powers for a full 8-hours.


	4. 4-Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Italics = Nightmare  
> This chapter is longer than the others, I got a bit carried away! :)

Another week had passed since Stiles had been approached by the three betas of the Hale pack, and it had been great, during the day at least. Every two or three nights, Derek had come by to help Stiles sleep, which ensued cuddling. Stiles was still embarrassed about that. But, he was still having trouble sleeping most of the nights that Derek wasn’t there, understandably of course. Who can go back to sleeping normally (not really that normally), if they had been every now and then sleeping with a fine piece of man who volunteered to do it? In conclusion, Stiles was yet tired nearly all the time during the day if he hadn’t had alpha powers giving him a good night sleep the night before.

So, who could blame him that he passed out as soon as he got home on a Friday after a stressful, test-filled day of school? The three betas had something to do anyway, Stiles suspected a date because they all acted like a couple when they thought no one was looking. Cough cough, Stiles was looking.

Stiles had parked next to his father’s empty spot in the driveway about twenty minutes after school had ended, turning off the engine sluggishly once he thought he parked neat enough. Neat enough being that he wasn’t parallel to the sidewalk, being completely perpendicular to the house didn’t matter as much.

Once parked, Stiles trudged his way into the house with his backpack loosely on his shoulder, locking the door behind him after he entered. Groaning under his breath as he dragged his feet behind him on his way to his room, Stiles threw his backpack next to his closet and fell directly on his bed with a small ‘oof.’ Within seconds after hitting the duvet with all of his clothes and shoes still on, Stiles fell asleep quickly.

_Then, Stiles woke up in his English 12 classroom, the room bright and odd. For what reason was it odd? Stiles couldn’t place the purpose at that moment. His eyes flitted around the white walls, sparsely decorated and finally figured out why it felt weird in the classroom. There was nobody else in there._

_Stiles stood up with his body feeling somewhat normal, but he could tell that he was most likely in another lucid nightmare, yay. He felt a slight pull on his body towards the entrance of the school once he exited the classroom, meaning that was where he had to go in order to finish the dream. Every time that he didn’t follow the lucid nightmare’s pull, he fell into an even more terrifying and horrible dream that he could feel but couldn’t move for._

_Stiles walked at what seemed a normal pace in his dream towards the entrance doors of the school, the windows completely blacked out without any light whatsoever. Not from lamps, not from the moon, nothing. No light. The pull continued as Stiles got closer, not changing in force that meant that he was going at the correct speed to the correct place. Stiles rested his hand on the push-pole that opened the door before it opened by itself creepily._

_Outside was the basement of the mental asylum that Stiles had been admitted to only a couple months ago. That meant this was a possessing dream and the Nogitsune was here. Stiles turned his head to look back at the door he had just gone through, just to find a grey wall and a pain go through his abdomen from the dream being angry he wasn’t going with the program._

_There was a shuffling sound behind Stiles and the teenager felt his heart start beating faster from the fright, because he knew what it was. The thing that haunted him and left him scarred. Stiles knew that it wasn’t real, but it didn’t stop the fact that it was here in his mind. The Nogitsune._

_Its haunted laugh rattled throughout Stiles’s core and brain, making him shiver and close his eyes tightly to remind himself that it was just a dream. Just a dream. “Mieczyslaw, you’re here, I’ve been so lonely,” It whispered, the dark tongue that it had behind a thin layer of skin and pointed teeth coming out and licking up the side of Stiles’s neck._

_“I didn’t- come here-  for you,” Stiles retorted with as much sarcasm as he could with his shaking form and clattering teeth from both the horrifying situation as well as the cold of the room. His heart was pounding in his ribcage, slightly shaking his body even more with each beat that it gave._

_“Oh, Stiles, there’s nobody else here, who else would you have come for? Unless,” The Nogitsune laughed again, louder and its teeth grazed Stiles’s shoulder, “You only came for a riddle.”_

_The pull in Stiles’s chest increased, making him grit his teeth when realizing that he had to pretend that he was here for the riddles that the Nogitsune so helpfully gave every time his mind trailed back here during his sleep, whether it be in a day dream or a nightmare like this. “I, yes. Please, give me a- riddle,” His mouth was having a hard time controlling itself, making his words both slurring and sharp when they escaped his voice box._

_“Of course, Mieczyslaw,” The thing replied with what seemed to be inane amounts of glee before he gave the creepy word problem, “The man who invented it doesn’t want it for himself. The man who bought it doesn’t need it for himself. The man who needs it doesn’t know when he’ll get it.”_

_Answers flooded Stiles’s brain immediately, but this is Stiles’s nightmare, and that meant he had the answer somewhere. Stiles opened his eyes, flinching a little bit when he saw the Nogitsune stalking around him, and spotted a small spotlight to the right of him. His eyes trailed over to the brightness in such a dark room and whispered the answer, seeing the black and gold tomb propped against the wall, “A coffin.”_

_“Good Stiles, very, very good,” The Nogitsune chuckled and the pull in Stiles’s chest pushed him so hard that his body started moving on its own towards the coffin._

_“Wait- wait, please, no,” Stiles started muttering in increasing volume, his eyes widening as the coffin opened, as if to greet him, “Please! No, I don’t want this!” His voice was shaking as he was pushed inside the coffin by a wrapped hand, the Nogitsune. He tried to scream as the coffin was being shut but to no avail, his mouth was sealed shut. He tried to move a body part, anything at all, but he was forced down by the pull that took over all of his nightmares._

_“Goodnight Stiles,” It whispered with a maniacal laugh afterwards, slamming the tomb shut._

Stiles shot up with his mouth wide open as he woke up, tears flying down his cheeks at rapid speed. He looked around quickly, his head and neck hurting from the speed, but he didn’t care. He didn’t know where he was. Stiles knew he was about to enter a panic attack as his breath started hitching and becoming shallower, his hands shaking as he tried to find something to hold onto.

It was a street, an alleyway, that was abandoned. Stiles needed to calm down, right at that moment, no matter what. “C’mon Stiles, snap- out of it,” He muttered as he struggled on his way to his feet, holding onto the outside wall of the building on his left. As Stiles started realizing that he had sleep walked again, his breath started slowing. He just needed to find his way to home or someone he knew.

Stiles held onto the wall as he exited the alleyway, groaning when he leaned on it with his side. He lifted his shirt to see why it hurt so bad and saw multiple red spots that were most likely going to form into bruises, gritting his teeth as he thought the most probable reason is that he was mugged while sleep walking. He was in the city part of Beacon Hills, anyway. He straightened out his shirt eventually and kept walking while using the building as a crutch.

Once out on the sidewalk, Stiles eyed around and was met with multiple familiar surroundings. “Goddamnit,” He whispered to himself while wrapping his arms around himself. It made sense now about why it was so cold in his dream, it was freezing out there. He saw a particular street sign that he recognized as the turn into Derek’s loft parking lot and bit his lip. He had to go there or else he would get some sort of frost bite on his way back to his own house.

Following the route that he usually took with his car, Stiles eventually entered the building that Derek had purchased - just to use the loft by the way, nothing else, weird-sourwolf. Stiles checked his pajama pants’ pockets to see if, by chance, he had grabbed his phone in his sleep state. Sighing when finding that he had not done so, Stiles weakly shuffled over to the elevator that Derek had fixed up when he first bought the building. “Derek, if you’re here, don’t kill me when I get up there,” Stiles called out weakly before he entered the elevator.

The ride up was, as expected, uneventful. Stiles entered the loft carefully, wincing as he walked down the steps to the ground level of the large penthouse looking room. “Derek?” Stiles called out again, squawking quietly a little bit when the bed in the corner shifted, red eyes piercing through as the figure in it sat up, “Oh god, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Stiles? It’s nearly midnight,” Derek said, his red eyes going back to regular as he reached up on the wall next to his bed to turn the lights on in the loft, “Are you okay?” Wow, was Stiles still giving off the bad emotions?

“I woke up around the corner,” Stiles admitted, hoping that Derek would remember when he had talked about waking up in weird places on some nights. By the concerned look on the alpha’s face, he most likely did. “I was just wondering if I could stay here until it’s warm enough to walk home,” Stiles spoke quietly, letting his eyes slide down to the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the room. It wasn’t, a certain fine man was.

Derek sighed a little bit and scooted over on his bed, patting the spot next to him, “Come here.” Stiles blushed as he walked to Derek’s soft-looking bed, sitting awkwardly next to Derek. Derek reached out when it registered that Stiles wasn’t going to get comfortable on his own time, grabbing the 18-year-old by the waist and brought him closer. Admittedly, it didn’t seem that important in the first moment that the Hale alpha was cuddling him, until Derek decided to drop a bombshell. “You’re pack, Stiles. I want to take care of you.”

Stiles immediately went a bit limp on the bed, Derek having pushed him into a more comfortable laying position a few seconds before he dropped such a huge fact. “I didn’t… I didn’t know that,” Stiles finally spoke, getting out the truth in a couple tries. He really didn’t know. Though, he thought he could have been a bit more eloquent in his speaking.

“It’s true, Stiles,” Derek responded quietly against the backside of Stiles’s crown, nuzzling against him. Wow, of course, Stiles should have noticed. Derek, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica always were scenting him, but it was so subtle that Stiles didn’t figure it out until Derek made him near speechless a second ago. “Now sleep.”

Was Derek using his alpha voice on Stiles? Oh god, he was. Warmth spread through Stiles as he turned over on his other side to face Derek, looking up at the muscular man while speaking in a quiet voice, “How long? Since you first showed up at my place?” Stiles asked, blushing a little bit more when Derek nodded, “Okay… Well, thanks. I’m still going to make horrible dog jokes, but they’re going to be even worse, you know.”

Derek’s small nose-exhale of a laugh made Stiles gush internally as he leaned in closer and buried his face underneath the alpha’s chin. Derek pressed his hand as a solid warmth on Stiles’s lower back, and Stiles started drifting, not before thanking the werewolf again, not seeing the love and affection in Derek’s eyes before they both fell asleep.


	5. 5-Pack Movie Night

Saturday nights used to be a safe haven for Stiles where he would relax, play video games, and eat the shittiest food possible with Scott. Up until recently, however, Stiles was alone every Saturday night, only having maybe thirty minutes with his dad every now and then on the weekends. Now though, Stiles would be invited to the local arcade by the Hale pack – of course, he would pick up the offer and go, who wouldn’t miss a chance to be around people who seemed to like them now.

At the moment, Stiles was waiting for the text to head over to the arcade. It had been about thirty minutes since 7:30PM had passed, the regular time for Erica, Isaac, or Boyd to text him. He huffed quietly and tapped his foot impatiently while sitting on the edge of his bed with his phone in hand. Suddenly, it vibrated with the ringing of an angry bark coming with it. Sourwolf. Stiles immediately pulled up the notification to see what the alpha had said.

**_Sourwolf-_ **

_We’re having pack movie night, come over._

Stiles grinned at the text, having been well assured by the rest of the pack’s texts over the past twenty-four hours since Derek admitted Stiles’s place in the pack that he was indeed a part of the gang. Quickly standing up and straightening out his clothes – a pair of comfortable-ish jeans, a Lord of the Rings graphic tee, a black and red flannel, and a pair of black Converse, Stiles texted back with the smile still lodged in his cheeks.

**_Stiles-_ **

_Alright, eta 15 min. See you in a lil bit sourwolf_ _😊_

Stiles snatched his keys from his desk and slid his phone and wallet in the back pockets of his jeans before jogging out of the house, locking the door behind him. He jumped into the driver’s seat of his car, turning on the engine and reversing out of the driveway before driving off to Derek’s loft.

Fortunately, Stiles managed to catch every green light on the way to the Hale pack’s residence, taking only 10 minutes instead of the five-minute longer estimated time of arrival. He parked next to the camaro in the small parking lot and turned the engine off, breathing deeply to settle some of his nerves. Since last night, Stiles has been overthinking and trying not to do so about the cuddling and scenting from Derek, because he did it more intimately than the others did. Shaking the thoughts from his brain, Stiles hopped out of his jeep with his keys in hand.

Stiles jogged into the building and entered the elevator, hands shaking minutely with leftover anxiety as he pressed the last button on the panel to reach the loft. Once the lift started moving, Stiles took a long, deep breath to try and rid himself of the last bit of anxiety because, knowing the werewolves and their freaky senses, they would immediately see or smell his nervousness. He honestly didn’t know why he was so nervous besides maybe the idea of Derek being too hot and making Stiles’s bodily functions react inappropriately.

Shaking his head with a finality, Stiles entered the loft and spotted the Hale pack sitting up against the couch on the floor, including Derek. God, why did he have to be wearing another one of those comfortable-looking thumbhole Henleys? Stiles smiled cheekily at the pack and playfully saluted to them before stepping out of his shoes, leaving them near the door. They all greeted him with various motions and a few “hellos.”

The floor everyone was sitting on was covered with a few comforters and more than five (he tried to count, but it didn’t work) pillows, but there was a spot between Erica and Derek. Stiles walked over, seeing that the food was placed on either side of the little nest of comfort, the remote in Derek’s hand (were they waiting for him?). He sidled into the empty spot and immediately was touched by Derek’s free hand in a ruffle of his hair and Erica patted him on the back. “What’re we watching?” Stiles asked after Derek pressed play, and Stiles’s eyes flitted between the alpha and the only female beta while wondering who he should move closer and curl up to.

“We’re watching the first three Harry Potter movies tonight, next three next weekend, and then the last two the next,” Derek responded, making the decision for Stiles by wrapping his arm around his back and pulling him in underneath his stubbly chin, and placed the remote near the food. Stiles flushed slightly at the contact, his eyes contacting with Erica’s and her dumb eye brow raise. ‘Don’t,’ he mouthed at her before leaning back and relaxing into the warmth of Derek. She chuckled a little bit with the other two, the betas having already curled up with each other, clearly a bit intimately.

As the second half of the second movie started, Stiles started shuffling a little bit in Derek’s close hold because his clothes were becoming irritating and uncomfortable. He should’ve brought pajamas. “Do you need some pajamas?” Derek muttered underneath his breath right above Stiles’s hair, making him shiver a little bit in attraction.

“Yes please,” Stiles responded quietly, so as to keep the disruption as little as possible. Derek made an affirmative noise and pulled Stiles up gently, bringing them up the stairs to the actual bedroom that had Derek’s clothes in it most likely.

Once in the room, Derek shut the door and made his way over to the dresser in the corner. He pulled open the first and third drawer, retrieving a pair of sweatpants and -shit- a thumb-hole Henley. Derek walked over to Stiles, who was still standing at the door, and handed him the clothes, his hand lingering on Stiles’s own.

“Derek…” Stiles whispered quietly, subconsciously shuffling closer to the scruffy alpha, looking up at him slightly because of the two inch difference. Derek’s hand lifted from the clothes, his eyes showing a flash of red as he placed the appendage on Stiles’s baby-ish face. Stiles’s breath was caught in his throat as Derek’s eyes flickered from Stiles’s honey ones and his parted lips. After a millisecond, Derek’s lips were pressed against the legal teenager’s and their eyes closed before Stiles pressed himself against Derek’s body and kissed back as best he could.

Once a couple seconds passed, Derek pulled away from a pupil-blown Stiles, his own eyes in a similar situation as he stared fondly down at him. “Put the clothes on, I’ll be waiting with the pack downstairs,” Derek murmured, pressing a soft peck on Stiles’s lips before heading back down to the movie.

Stiles stood there for a good minute, shell-shocked to his core, before finally changing into the clothes that smelled of Derek. He buried his face in the shirt for a second and then headed downstairs to watch the movies. He sat down at Derek’s side before independently curling up next to him, taking the hand opposite of him and holding it, smiling at how the alpha squeezed back before he went back to watching the movie.

For once, Stiles felt like this wasn’t a momentary thing. It felt like he was actually getting better, with _his pack._


	6. 6-Becoming the Hale-McCall Pack Pt.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for the long wait, I've had a little bit of writer's block. I had to split up this chapter into two parts so that it would be less of a challenge to read in intervals. ALSO! THANKS FOR 100 KUDOS! My first work on here, and it's already a success in my eyes. Once I have this story done, I will do more! It's up to you guys for what I should write on (fandom and what not).

Stiles’s life had been on the uphill recently. He always had a smile on his face nowadays, and over the past few weeks he was out of his house, marathoning Harry Potter with the pack on the weekends and building the relationships within his pack, particularly with a certain alpha named Derek. They had been ignoring the idea of a conversation about their increasingly romantic interactions but making sure that the other was enjoying things like kissing, hugging, and cuddling. They hadn’t gone any further than those simply actions anyway. They scented a lot, and once Stiles had found that Derek liked being scented back, he always enjoyed nuzzling against Derek’s jaw and neck while hugging.

But of course, all good things must end or at least be paused, and how coincidental that it would happen on a Monday morning.

Stiles entered the school with Isaac’s arm lightly wrapped around his shoulder in a friendly gesture, subtly scenting Stiles as they walked to their first period of AP Chemistry, laughing at a sarcastic remark that Stiles made about their failing current presidency, the politics in the U.S., and burning world. They entered the classroom, not noticing the chalkboard until they were settled in their regular seats. Stiles looked up and read the neat, white handwriting, groaning as he found that they would be put into assigned partner projects. Fuck Mr. Harris, man. Like seriously? There was only a few weeks left for seniors, and this is the shit they get?

Isaac looked worriedly at Stiles, speaking underneath his breath, too quiet for anyone else to hear because Scott wasn’t in the classroom yet, “Do you think you’ll be paired with him?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think I can face him yet after everything,” Stiles said quietly, eyes wide at the sudden realization of the possibility of being paired with his past friend. He hadn’t thought about that when he first read the upsetting information on the board. God, he really didn’t want to have such a negative thing to happen, because knowing Scott, he wouldn’t think anything would be wrong. Maybe he’d be upset about the scenting from Stiles’s pack. Who knows what might happen?

Isaac gently squeezed Stiles’s shoulder as Scott walked in with Lydia, chatting about what seemed to be boring Lydia in Stiles’s perspective. Stiles immediately switched his focus down to the table and tried to stop thinking about what might go horribly wrong in the case of being paired with Scott for the project. He zeroed back in to the rest of the class when Isaac nudged his side with a lanky elbow, looking up at Mr. Harris, who looked pointedly back at him.

“Now that we have _everyone’s_ attention, I’ll give you your pairs, then the instructions,” Mr. Harris stated passive aggressively, picking up a piece of chalk and turning back to the white board to write down the pairs of students.

_Isaac L. & Greenberg_

_Lydia M. & Daniel M._

Stiles sighed at the pairings, hoping that he would’ve been paired with one of those people at least. Lydia was smart, Isaac was pack, Greenberg he knew, and Danny was just great. Isaac did another one of his reassuring shoulder squeezes when Stiles’s name was being written and the next name started with an S, then a C, then an O, and, of course, a pair of T’s before an M initial at the end. Yay. Stiles let his head fall to the science table, his head making an audible thunk! as he did so.

The rest of the names were written, and then everyone began to move, Stiles not leaving his place as Isaac made an extremely quiet, wolf-like whine after getting up. Thankfully, Greenberg sat directly behind them and Isaac intimidated the other kid sitting there into getting up and going to his partner for the project. Isaac sat down, staring as Scott walked over with an oblivious smile on his face to the now empty seat next to Stiles.

Scott’s cheerful puppy energy and aura that emitted from him decreased slightly when he saw that Stiles was upset, lightly resting a hand on the other teen’s back. Stiles immediately flinched at the feeling, sitting up taut and straight as if he’d been struck by lightning at the true alpha’s touch. He felt like a string being pulled too tight. Scott furrowed his eyebrows out of the corner of Stiles’s vision and asked quietly in an upset tone, “What’s wrong?”

That snapped the metaphorical string that Stiles felt like, and he barely heard the quiet growling from Isaac behind him. Stiles felt his eyes becoming wet, and he blinked quickly, raising his hand and blurted out some excuse about having to use the restroom before he grabbed his things and ran out of the classroom.

Stiles didn’t feel where he was going, not really looking around too much until he found himself rested against a tree near the lacrosse field, a little farther into the thicket than the ones directly next to the pitch. He felt his breathing becoming shallower and quicker, just like that night he woke up near Derek’s building, meaning he was about to go into another panic attack. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly after bringing his knees to his chest, letting his head fall until he was curled up in the most constricted human ball that one could be without breaking their back.

In the back of his mind, he knew it was irrational to just suddenly burst into a panic attack at only a question from Scott – who didn’t do anything emotionally or physically traumatic to him. Stiles heard quick footsteps coming towards him and slowly looked up, tears still streaming down his cheeks as he hiccupped and hyperventilated. He saw Isaac and tried to give him a smile, failing once he found that he couldn’t breathe with his mouth closed only a millisecond after trying and sobbed once again.

“Hey Stiles,” Isaac said in the best soothing voice that he could and tried to think of a way to bring Stiles down from his panic attack before remembering a blog that he’d read after a night’s long search of figuring out how to prevent panic attacks from occurring, “Hey, how about this, you give me a thumbs up or a thumbs down on these questions I’ll ask you. They’re just to help right now, because I know that panic attacks suck the absolute most ass.”

Stiles gave the best nod that he could, reaching out with a shaky hand to grasp lightly on Isaac’s hand. Isaac smiled softly and switched his position so that he was sitting directly beside Stiles, wrapping his arm around him, hoping that the pack bond – he felt it form after the first couple days of hanging out with him – would soothe Stiles if he could feel it on the human end. “Alright, so, do you want me to call Derek so we can leave?” Thumbs down. Alright.

“Do you realize that this is temporary and nothing to be afraid of?” Thumbs up.

“Can you try to sync your breathing with mine?” Thumbs up. Okay. Isaac pulled the hand that Stiles had wrapped around his own and placed it against his heart, breathing slowly and in time with his calm-ish heartbeat. Slowly but surely, Stiles’s breathing started to become deeper and less frightening for Isaac’s wolf, who had been freaking out this whole time.

“Alright, do you think you can talk?” A side-ways thumb, so maybe. Nodding softly and laying back against the tree, Isaac pulled Stiles closer in a soft hug, hoping that it would help bring him to some form of homeostasis. The beta flinched slightly at the sound of new footsteps approaching and curled up more to protect Stiles in some way, his eyes flashing and his throat releasing a low growl when he smelled Scott approaching. He glared up at the true alpha from behind his golden gaze, Stiles looking up to find out who it was. He bit his bottom lip harshly to keep it from quivering in the aftershocks of the panic attack and stood up as shakily as he could, holding onto Isaac who helped him to stand completely. He always felt so weak after a panic attack – probably the lack of blood flow to his brain.

He raised his fist and slammed it into the asymmetrical jaw of Scott, reveling in the feeling of satisfaction before a flood of guilt washed over him. He wouldn’t apologize though, Scott didn’t deserve it. When Scott looked up at him with a betrayed look, Stiles scoffed shakily and shook his head while holding up a finger to silence him, “Shut up, Scott. You don’t get to feel like I went against you and stabbed you in the back. Listen, because I’ll tell you what’s wrong, and you’ll have to figure out exactly why I just punched you in the face and tell me.”

Scott nodded warily, because who wouldn’t be scared of Stiles who was legitimately angry and had a certain fire in his eye that he only saw in Kira before she attacked a rogue supernatural creature. Then Stiles explained. Everything. From when the lunches became alone, to the nightmares, to the whole feeling of being lost and betrayed by the McCall pack, and then being a part of the Hale Pack, and the feeling of wholeness, then the string snapping at the question earlier.

By the end of it, Scott’s eyes were watery and he looked like he was about to break down sobbing as he said, “I’m so sorry Stiles. I didn’t know, I was just so caught up in high school that I forgot to check up on you. I know there’s no excuse for this, but please see that I’m telling you the truth when I say I am so god damn sorry.” Stiles felt his own eyes tearing up again as Isaac held his arm to keep him from falling, but Isaac let him go as soon as Stiles moved across the small space in the thicket to hug Scott as tightly as he could. “I’m so sorry,” Scott murmured again.

Admittedly, Stiles really wanted to continue being angry at Scott, and he probably wouldn’t be completely okay with everything for a while. However, he thought, it would get better in the long run. Maybe, they could become _one big pack._


	7. Quick A/N, New Update Soonish

Hey, sorry for not updating recently. There's been a few things going on, and I haven't really had the creativity or the right space of mind and time to write the rest of and edit the last chapter for this story.

I hope this isn't disappointing or aggravating, but hopefully I should get it done by the end of the month, maybe.

Again, sorry about this, I wish I finished it earlier.  
-Max


End file.
